Parted
by Caleb9849
Summary: Another sad Elrond and Arwen drama. Elrond watches his only daughter leave his presence and reflects on their time together. My first fic! Please read and review. It's a little bit AU: almost no time in between Minas Tirith and the Grey Havens.
1. Anticipation

This is probably going to suck majorly. It's my first published fan fiction. It's also my first dramatic/angsty writing (that I can think of). I am also not a very dramatic/angsty person. I just want to write this thing because...I'm a weirdo .

So anyways, I'd really appreciate reviews. It will probably suck, so if it does, I don't mind if you say it. But please try to find a nice way of saying it. And if it doesn't suck, do indeed let me know and I will be very pleased:)

Disclaimer: Much of this stuff is Tolkien's. Mmmmkay.

**Parted**

Chapter 1: Anticipation

Elrond Peredhil sat quietly in front of the blazing fire which crackled from within the hearth. He sat, deep in thought. Thought of what was to happen tomorrow. He would not sleep easy tonight. Sleeping at all tonight would be no small feat, as a matter of fact. He wondered if he would ever sleep easy again. Or even at all. Was life really going to be perfect in the Undying Lands? It couldn't be. Not unless he forgot entirely about Undómiel. But if he forgot about Undómiel, life would be awful. But if he remembered Undómiel, life would be awful. How would existence possibly be tolerable?

He realized his train of thought was going in circles, and nipped it in the bud. To fill his mind with the remaining void, he reflected on the day. The rebirth of Gondor's government under Aragorn Elessar; the wedding of Elrond's daughter, Arwen Undómiel, to the new king, in the city of Minas Tirith. It had been glorious...for everyone except him. Granted, there was some remote amount of happiness within him. It was from this that he had managed to conjure up a smile to put on for everyone. It wasn't that he hated Aragorn. Far from it. In fact, he was much responsible for Aragorn's upbringing. And if Arwen _had_ to marry a mortal, Aragorn would have been high on Elrond's list of choices, not unlikely the single highest. But it was still a far cry from what she deserved. What he deserved. He didn't deserve to leave Middle-Earth, destined for Valinor and eternal happiness, with the knowledge that his only daughter would, before long, die. _Die..._he cringed at the thought of that word. And the awful truth was that it was her own choice...

"Have you not slept at all?" Elladan asked from the doorway to the hall. Elrond had not even seen one of his twin sons standing there.

"Should I have?" Elrond had no idea how anybody could possibly expect him to maintain his sanity, let alone sleep.

"Uh...I suppose not. Sorry to ask. Well, I don't mean to nag, but I think you'd better prepare. It's almost time to go."

Not realizing Elladan had been standing there was nothing compared to how Elrond had let the time fly by unnoticed. "Oh, yes...of course. Go on ahead, I'll be out shortly."

**To be Continued**


	2. Memories

Disclaimer: Much of this stuff is Tolkien's. Mmmmkay.

**Parted**

Chapter 2: Memories

All of them stood there on the shores, looking out over that great, golden sea. Elrond Peredhil, Arwen Undómiel, Aragorn Elessar, and a few others, among them Frodo Baggins the ringbearer, for whom Arwen had pleaded with the Valar and gained access to Valinor, in compensation for the horrible pain and suffering he endured for the good of Middle-Earth. They'd all been teleported there by the Valar in order to assure that the journey would be made at the appointed time. Elrond stared, proudly and lovingly, but extremely sadly, at his daughter. This would be the last time he would see her. Ever. Never again. This was it.

"Master Elrond!" called the boatman. "Are you ready? We must make haste...there is a storm on the way."

"I will never be ready," he slowly and sadly replied as he reflected upon the last several thousand years.

* * *

He held the little elfling in his arms, barely big enough to be held with both arms. "Arwen Undómiel," he quietly called her. A smile came over his face as he observed once again the miracle of life. She was his daughter...born of his own flesh and of his wife, Celebrían's. He would raise her up to be everything good that an elf woman could possibly be.

Nothing and no-one would ever come between them.

* * *

"Ada!" A shrill cry echoed from down the hall. "ADA!"

Elrond quickly jumped out of bed and ran out of the bedroom, and down the hall to where his precious Undómiel slept. In he went, and there she was, crying uncontrollably and shaking violently. He rushed to her bedside and picked her up into his arms. "Everything will be all right," he said as he stroked her hair gently.

"I had a bad dream about Nana," she slowly wailed.

"Don't worry about Nana," Elrond reassured her. "She's gone to Valinor, where all her wounds, both physical and emotional, have by now been healed." Of course Arwen hadn't the faintest about true emotional wounds, but Elrond needed to be reminded from time to time that his wife was just fine, and the comment was halfway directed at himself.

This seemed to quiet the little elf down a bit. But she was still uneasy. "Ada, can I sleep in your bed tonight?"

Elrond took one look into her eyes and could not refuse. He couldn't have refused before he looked into her eyes, but he looked into her eyes anyway, just for the added assurance. "Of course, Undómiel."

Nothing and no-one would ever come between them. Not even horrible sadness stemming from the loss of a loved one.

* * *

"Weaving is boring. I want to go shoot the bow some more."

Well, if she wasn't going to be a housewife, perhaps she'd make a fine warrior, or a ranger. So be it! Elrond was perfectly happy with this. Whatever she wanted, he wanted. So, out they went to shoot the bow some more. Unfortunately, Elladan and Elrohir had decided they were going to practice their archery skills as well, and had gone out to do so without permission.

Arwen had just lined up her shot, and was on the verge of shooting, when a horrible gust of wind came up. "Stupid thing! Ada, the wind is making the bow shake all over the place!"

Unfortunately, Arwen's bow was the least of the problems to be caused by the wind. For blown off course from afar was an arrow; whether it was Elladan's or Elrohir's didn't matter, for it hit Arwen right in the thigh.

"AAAAAH! What did I do wrong!" she screamed. "Ada, you didn't tell me about any arrows coming at me out of nowhere!"

"Calm down and sit," said Elrond calmly. Arwen sat down, but winced horribly as she did so, and her eyes welled up with tears. "Don't worry, it's not serious," he assured her.

Out of the blue came running Elladan and Elrohir. "What happened to my arrow?" yelled Elladan. "And what's going on here?"

Elrond turned to face them. "What do you THINK is going on?" he growled. After they took a closer look at the situation, they didn't just think, they knew. "I've told you a hundred times not to go out shooting without asking permission. Apologize to your sister, both of you!"

"We're sorry," they both managed.

" And no dessert for either of you tonight!" he scolded. Arwen was quite pleased with the compensations for her pain and proceeded to stick her tongue out at the both of them. Elrond saw it. He pretended not to, though.

Nothing and no-one would ever come between them. Not even his other children who, at their best, were excellently behaved children and definitely destined for greatness and glory.

* * *

"I choose a mortal life." Those words echoed and rang in the back of Elrond Peredhil's mind, giving him a splitting, agonizing headache. "Arwen," he said. "There is nothing for you here. Only death."

"No. I love him. I love him more than anyone can comprehend, Ada."

"Do you not also love me? I raised you from birth. Much of it was done on my own, since your mother left."

"Of course I do. You know that. I love you very, very much...it is just that I love him too, with a love I cannot explain."

He knew what she spoke of. Infatuation...it brings great joy in some cases, utter agony in others. To Arwen it would bring both. To Elrond, only the latter. But there was no convincing her otherwise. It wasn't the first time he'd had this discussion was her. Nay, not even the third. She was going to stay in Middle-Earth, to become a mortal, to abandon her people, her brothers. Her father. That was the end of it. She was not going to change her mind.

Nothing and no-one would ever come between them. Not even horrible sadness stemming from the loss of a loved one. Not even his other children who, at their best, were excellently behaved children and definitely destined for greatness and glory. Nothing and no-one...except, of course, a mortal man from the north, doomed to die and pass into inexistence. Eh? Something sounded very wrong with the situation...as it always had in these last few agonizing years since his daughter had so foolishly fallen in love...

* * *

No, how could he ever be "ready" to leave his daughter here to die?

**To be Continued**


	3. Parted

Disclaimer: Much of this stuff is Tolkien's. Mmmmkay.

**Parted**

Chapter 3: Parted  


Elrond continued staring at his daughter. He had always feared this day, but never so much as now, because it hadn't actually come. There had always been that slight, remote, distant possibility that things would change. But they hadn't. That last remaining ray of hope that he'd clung to was being crushed.

Thunder echoed in the distance, and black clouds continued to roll in from afar. "Lord Elrond!" yelled the boatman. "We simply cannot delay! This storm will be the death of us."

"Farewell, Ada. I will always love you." The words were meant in love and grace, but the final product haunted, crushed, and choked Elrond.

_No, you do not,_ he thought. _How could one who loves me torment me in this merciless manner?_ But he did not say anything. For deep down, he knew this wasn't true. He knew she loved him as much as he did her. And that was all that kept him from lashing out in a combination of broken-heartedness and rage. But on the surface, in the here and now, he truly believed that she hated him. Why would she abandon him if she did? Him, his sons, all of the other elves?

Arwen stared at her father, motionless and static. She couldn't blame him. What was he to do? Jump for joy? And so, she raised her arms to hug him and began walking toward him.

But, still, Elrond did not see what truly lay before him. He did not see his daughter coming to communicate "Goodbye, I'll always love you and never forget you," but something rather like "It was fun for a while, but I'm tired of you. So tired of you that I'd rather die without you than live forever with you." He tried to reach down to the inner recesses of his mind, where he knew he'd find the truth, but right now he just couldn't reach that far.

Suddenly a horrible clatter was heard, causing Arwen to stop, midstride. First, the distinct roar of lightning and thunder, but much closer than any of them had ever heard. Then, the loud crack of the splitting of wood, mithril, and other materials used by the elves for crafting. Obviously, the boat was destroyed. The boatman swore loudly. "It looks like we will not be heading out today after all. We might as well all flee this place." Everyone began scattering mindlessly, anywhere they could get away from the thunder. The rain was unavoidable, though.

Elrond and Arwen were left standing there. All either of them cared about at this particular moment was the other. Thunder mattered little.

Thoughts raced in Elrond's mind. The truth which he knew, deep down, emerged from its hiding place into his will and conscious. But the deceptions remained; those evil thoughts, with little miniature minds and consciences of their own, didn't want to die. The thoughts began to fight each other violently. Then another thought sprang up: _I will not break down...I will be strong for her._ But this intention could not survive on the harsh battlefield of his other mental entities. And so, the emotions were released. His head sank down into his hands, and the tears began to pour.

Arwen had never seen her Ada like this. Never...well, except perhaps when Celebrían had left. She had left him here alone. All he had left were his sons and daughter. His wife was gone. ... ... It was here and now that she truly realized what she was doing to him, and that the full scope of the situation hit her. She was leaving him. He wasn't leaving her. It was the other way around. She was doing the same thing to him that Celebrían had done. The same thing that had given Arwen some of the most awful pains and nightmares of her life. Pains and nightmares that Ada had sacrificed time to "make them go away," as she would have said as a child. For a second, she strongly contemplated seeking a way to go back on her decision. But then she thought of Aragorn. She thought of Aragorn, who would have to live in this painful world by himself. Or, with someone else...that thought, she could not bear. But she loved Ada too. How was this going to work?

She walked over too him, put her arms around him, and put her head on his shoulder. "Ada, I'm sorry. I'm sorry for the pain this is causing us." Elrond's sadness decreased, a slight, but noticeable, amount.

"Us? He backed his head and looked at her face. "Isn't this what you wanted?"

Arwen then began to cry as well. "Have you thought all this time that I wasn't absolutely devastated that we would be parted?"

Elrond's mouth said nothing, but his eyes said "Yes."

"Why didn't you ever tell me you felt that? It isn't true...not in the least bit. My choice was not easy...it was agonizingly difficult. I will miss you almost more than I can bear. But I cannot leave my love here to just simply live and die without me."

When she had said, "I will miss you more than I can bear," there was truth in her eyes. And to Elrond, it sounded that she would miss him _almost_ as much as he would miss her. Almost. Enough to comfort him. "I...I didn't want to tear your heart...I didn't want to make you feel guilty for your decision. I thought that the decision was easy. I thought that if I told you what I was really feeling, you would feel sympathy for me and nothing else. Do you really want to know the truth? The truth is this. Without you, my only daughter, knowing I'll never see you again and wondering if you're even still alive, eternity will be miserable for me." But then he reflected upon that. It was no longer true...he would be sad, but he would be happy too. For he hadn't realized, until just now, how much she would miss him.

They say that misery loves company. It is true. Now that he knew he wasn't the only one, it would not be half as bad.

"No...that's not true," he told her. "I will be very sad, but not intolerably sad. Not now that the truth has been revealed to me."

Arwen was still in disbelief that her dear Ada had thought such a thing. She would think of him every day, nay, every hour, in an ironic combination of happiness for the time they spent together, and sadness because of their parting. She put her head upon his shoulder again and whispered into his ear. "Le melon, Ada."

During the course of all of this, they had not realized that, by some miracle, the horrendous storm had cleared. The boatman returned presently. "Saved!" he said. "Fortune smiles upon us...another boat is prepared and will be here within minutes." He spoke truth, for soon another boat was ready to go. "Namárië, Ada," Arwen said.

"Namárië, iell nîn. Le annon veleth nîn." Elrond slowly boarded the boat. Each step was painful. But it was easier when he remembered that he wasn't the only one in pain. When the plank was lifted, the anchor was retrieved, and the vessel began to sail, it was like a jagged, rusty shard of mithril to the head. As the boat drifted on, he stared back at her, with both complete joy and horrible sadness. And she gazed toward the boat in exactly the same way. They never turned their sights from each other until they were too far away even to reckon the correct direction.

Nothing and no-one would ever come between them. Not even the vast, nearly impassable, sea separating Middle-Earth from Valinor. It may come between their physical beings. But it would never come between them.

Well, that's it. What do you think? Again, it's my first fic, so go a bit easy...oh and the Sindarin is basically winged (wung?). So if it is wrong, PLEASE TELL ME. Here's what it's supposed to mean:

Le melon, Ada I love you, dad

Namárië, Ada Farwell, dad

Namárië, iell nîn Farwell, my daughter

Le annon veleth nîn You have my love


End file.
